Parents-To-Be
by Live.Laugh.Love.Listen.Music
Summary: Healer Randolph Geneser looked solemnly between Harry and Ginny Potter. "Mr Potter," the Healer said, "we believe that dear Ginevra here is carrying more than one child." "You believe... you think... there might be ...more than... more than one in there..." Harry stammered, staring at Ginny's abdomen as if it might contain a whole waiting room full of people waiting to be born. AU
1. Chapter 1

**This is an idea that sprung into mind and wouldn't leave while I was watching Lord of the Rings a few nights ago. It was that scene where Arwen has a vision of her future son and decides to chose mortality. I was thinking 'what a shock that must have been; finding out you would have a son' and then I thought 'only thing more shocking is twins, or even triplets!' So I decided to write a fanfiction where there are multiple babies. Enjoy!**

**Warning: there is lots of Harry adoring Ginny moments, which might not be to everyone's taste, but he is completely in love with her. If she seems at all like a Mary Sue it is intentional – I think Harry loves her so much he always sees her positively, so I am aiming for a touch of Sue to make his love very obvious.**

There were not many things Harry Potter feared. Dementors were one; losing his family was another. He had faced murderers and werewolves, basilisks and death eaters. Compared to those horrors, everyday life shouldn't terrify him as it did at this moment. Maybe it was because he had never had a normal life: the life he was living was an alien one to that he had survived as a teenager.

So here he was, with sweaty palms and borderline hyperventilation, ramrod straight in an uncomfortable chair in a consultation room in St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Why was the chair so uncomfortable? Couldn't the magical carpenters install a cushioning charm, or whatever?

Ginny burst out laughing. She sat next to Harry and the difference between the two was striking. While he was rapidly melting into a puddle of anxious goo and running all over the carpet, she was completely relaxed and utterly composed, no goo in sight.

"Magical carpenters? Really, Harry?"

"Did I, uh, say that out loud?" She laughed again, her brown eyes sparkling. She looked astoundingly wonderful, actually, with her glowing skin and shining hair. Harry lost himself for a moment, staring at the utter perfection that was his wife. In Harry's eyes, nothing was more beautiful, more stunning, more marvellous than Ginny.

"Earth to Harry, Starship to Enterprise, Apollo to Huston, come in please!"

Harry snapped out of his daze to another round of Ginny's laughter. "You really are out of it today, aren't you?"

"How are you so calm? How do you... how are you... How?" Harry stopped trying to be coherent and sent a look of pure frustration towards his wife.

"Mum's given me a lot of advice. Besides, I have to try to keep calm – it's bad for the baby if I get too stressed. _The Baby._ Ginny was pregnant.

Harry had never had a bigger shock in his life. Ginny hadn't eased him into it either – she had announced it over orange juice (after six years of pumpkin juice, orange was a nice change) and cornflakes. Harry had choked.

It wasn't as if they hadn't talked about kids before. They had been married for four years, and both had wanted a family; Harry had craved one since he was a small child, and Ginny had grown up in an overflowing house and wanted one of her own. However, the shock of actually finding out Ginny had conceived, and without the pair planning or actively trying for a child had caught them both by surprise. Neither of them had expected to become parents at such a young age – Harry was almost twenty four, and Ginny only twenty three.

The Weasley's had been ecstatic at the thought of a new arrival swelling the ranks of the already huge family. Bill and Fleur had two daughters, Percy and Audrey's daughter Molly had recently turned two and George and Angelina had a son, named – of course – after Fred. As far as Harry knew, Ron and Hermione hadn't considered children so far. Hermione wanted to reach a position in The Ministry before she went on any extended maternity leave.

After each of Ginny's brothers had threatened Harry with disembowelment for 'knocking up their baby sister' – only half joking – the overwhelmed couple had received offers of old clothes, furniture, advise and babysitting so they could have a few nights off ("Though only a few nights," George said, "Wouldn't want Ginny to have another kid too soon, right Potter?").

So far, the best gift of all had been the advice, which had poured in from all the mothers; what to wear; what to eat; what physical limits Ginny should have ("That means no Quidditch Gin!" "But, _mum_!"); when to see the doctors.

It was the latter reason that had caused the couple to book a consultation with the St Mungo's maternity staff. Ginny had been suffering from extreme morning sickness over the past week, throwing up several times each day (which had confused Harry greatly – wasn't morning sickness meant to be in the morning?)

Harry was terrified that something might be wrong with either Ginny or the Baby. If anything happened to either of them... He had loved Ginny since he was seventeen, and it had only taken him a few hours to realise he adored the Baby. _His Baby_. Shock had been the only thing blocking an immediate adoration.

Being a father terrified him almost as much as the fear something could go wrong in the pregnancy. Harry had never known his father, and neither Sirius nor Remus had ever been a good substitute. Sirius had been too reckless, too depressed at being prisoner at the house he hated (though his tips on how to shave were fantastic) and Remus was never there. Arthur Weasley was almost like a dad to him, but he had never been a father. Harry was terrified that he would screw up in some way; it would be his fault if his kid ended up badly.

Ginny and Ron and Hermione (and George, and Mrs Weasley, and Bill, and Percy, and Mr Weasley, and the guys in the office, and the muggle who owned the corner-shop a street away from his house) had all told him that his fear was irrational. "It's instinctual," said Mr Weasley; "You'll do great," Ron said; "The kid is half you and half Ginny – it's already doomed," said George; "Show them those awesome card tricks you can do – they're just like magic!" said Marty the muggle shopkeeper.

Harry would have given anything to be able to talk to his parents. Like him, they had married and procreated early – his mum had been only twenty when he was born. Their advice would have been worth its weight in gold.

Harry's thoughts were interrupted by the click and squeak of the door handle turning. Into the room came Healer Geneser with a full tray, wafting in the scents of mixed potions – mint, rubber, melon – and poor quality coffee with him. Ginny's nose wrinkled and she put a hand to her stomach. Scent had been one of the triggers for her vomiting. Harry reached out and took her other hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

"Ah, the Potters! My favourite patients!" The healer was almost bouncing in excitement, though this wasn't anything new. Healer Geneser existed in a state of high excitement; Harry had never seen him without an ear-to-ear grin.

"Hello, Healer Geneser," Ginny said in a strained voice. The scent must have been much stronger to Ginny's sensitive nose.

"Dear Ginevra, what is the problem? You look upset!" Harry had no idea how Geneser managed to be both ecstatic and concerned at the same time, but he did.

"The scent is, uhm," She swallowed, turning faintly green, "upsetting the baby."

"But of course! How lax of me! How utterly absurd of me to forget! Forgive me please, young Gaynor-"

"Gaynor? My names Ginny, Healer Geneser," Ginny gave Harry a 'what-is-this-man-on?' look.

"Ah, but both Gaynor and Ginevra share a common ancestor! They are, respectively, the British and Italian forms of Guinevere, a name made famous by Queen Guinevere of Camelot. Originally, in Welsh, the name was Gwenhwyfar; Guinevere is actually the French translation of the name. Other popular variants include Jennifer and Jenna-"

Harry interrupted. "As interested as we are, Healer Geneser, could you please do something about the smell?" Healer Geneser halted immediately; looking slightly deflated, but resumed full buoyancy only moments later.

"Of course, of course! How balmy I am getting in my age! Now let's see here..." He thought for a moment, then gave his wand a complex wiggle and said 'Recens Aura!' Immediately, gust for fresh air swept though the room, sweeping away any trace of rubber and mint. Ginny relaxed perceptively.

"So, what do you have to tell us Healer Geneser?" Harry asked.

"Oh please, Harrison, call me Randy, please!" The healer beamed.

"Erm... Harrison? _Randy_?"

"Well Randy is, of course, short for Randolph, which is, of course, my name! And Harrison shares roots with Harry – they are both originally of Germanic-"

Ginny sent Harry an exasperated look and cleared her throat. "Could we possibly talk about the Baby please... Randy?"

"Of course, of course! Now, dear Ginny, you have complained about your morning sickness, correct?"

"Yes," said Harry and Ginny.

"Well, we have analysed the tests we performed little over an hour ago. You are suffering from acute morning sickness, though luckily for you, it is not the most extreme case I have seen."

"Right," said Ginny, nodding.

"What effect will this have on Ginny and the Baby?" Harry asked.

"In more severe cases, acute morning sickness can pose a serious health risk to both the Mother and the infant. Lack of nutrients, vitamins and water are, of course, serious issues in pregnancy. Luckily for you, dear Ginevra, you have a very mild case which can be treated easily."

"That's a relief," murmured Harry, squeezing Ginny's hand.

"So what do I have to do?" asked Ginny.

Randy pushed a tray on his desk forward, the one he had carried when entering the room. "These are a series of nutrition, vitamin, hydration and stomach-calming potions. The hydration potion keeps you fluid levels up and contains electrolytes because you will have lost some of them. The vitamin potion will supplement you with A and B vitamins, whose levels drop too around this time. The nutrition and stomach-calming potions explain themselves." He glanced up, noting the baffled looks on Ginny and Harry's faces. "You received a medical guide from St Mungo's after your first appointment with us; it will explain what electrolytes are, and anything else you might not know. Now, are you still taking your prenatal potions daily?"

"Yes, I am, at breakfast." Ginny replied.

"Well, it's time to change that – you no longer need some of the vitamins it provides as they are only for the first three months. These purple flasks-" he indicated to the tray "- are your new prenatal potions. Take them every day at breakfast, along with the nutrient, vitamin, hydration and stomach-calming ones."

"Fantastic," Ginny said brightly, looking happily at Harry. "I told you everything would be alright!"

"That you did," said Harry, beaming at her. The weight of the world lifted off his shoulders. Ginny and the Baby would be alright!

"Is there anything else you need to say, Randy?"

"Yes, actually. It is a serious matter for the both of you." Harry felt all the worry and fear slam back into him.

"What?" He said anxiously, "What is it?"

"Well, did either of you know that acute morning sickness is more common in women pregnant with multiple children?"

"Well, no, but I hardly see why that's important. Do you Gin?" Harry felt baffled at why Healer Randy would think they'd find that piece of trivia interesting, but as he looked at Ginny, the realised she had gotten more from that sentence than he had. Her hand fell to her stomach and her eyes went as wide as galleons.

"That's impossible..." she breathed.

"What? What's impossible? Ginny?" Harry glanced between the healer and his wife in alarm. Ginny looked at him, the shock plastered to her face.

"Mr Potter," the Healer said, "we believe that dear Ginevra here is carrying more than one child."

_Carrying more than one... oh!_

Harry wasn't aware that his mouth had fallen open or that his eyes were even rounder than Ginny's. More than one child. His mind couldn't even begin to form a coherent sentence. More than one baby. It wasn't Ginny and Baby in the chair next to him, it was Ginny and Babies.

"You believe... you think... there might be ...more than... more than one in there..." Harry stammered, staring at Ginny's abdomen as if it might contain a whole waiting room full of people waiting to be born. The hand that wasn't clamped around Ginny's went to his chest and massaged the spot over where his heart was trying to beat its way out of his chest. More than one baby.

"Well, it's not so much believing, actually. We are certain of it. Congratulations!" Randy beamed at both of them, looking as if he expected them to get up and dance. Harry was having trouble controlling his breathing; celebrating was as far away from the forefront of his mind as cancan dancing.

"More than one baby... alright, alright," Ginny murmured, though she really didn't look alright. "Twins, we can manage twins. Just like Mum and Dad did with Fred and George. Twins, okay."

Randy cleared his throat; Harry and Ginny both glanced up. "You aren't carrying Twins, Ginevra."The Potter's stared at him in shock. "What do you mean, we're not having twins? You said we were having more than baby!"

"Yes, I did, but you are having more than two children."

Utter silence fell in the room. The two parents-to-be glanced at each other, than the healer, then back to each other.

"What?" Harry finally managed.

"More than two babies... more than..." Ginny stared at Harry.

"How many babies are there?" Harry gasped.

Healer Randolph Geneser looked solemnly between Harry and Ginny Potter.

"Five."


	2. Chapter 2

They took the bus back to their flat in silence. It was a normal muggle bus, not the Knight Bus, as any mode of transport which involved magically moving from one location to another (including apparition, portkeys and Floo) was dangerous for a pregnant woman: the likelihood of birth defects increased dramatically if a pregnant woman used such modes of transport.

Harry was watching Ginny. Her lips were pressed tightly together; her hand resting protectively on her abdomen. Ginny almost never cried – something that attracted him immensely after his disaster romance with Cho Chang – which told Harry that she really was feeling as shocked and terrified as he was.

Five babies. _Five_. There weren't words for Harry's emotions. Five babies. The thought of one child had scared him to death: how was he meant to deal with five? How was he supposed to be a father to five children? How was he supposed to balance his time between them all? How was he meant to love each one without the others feeling left out?

Five babies. Five teenagers. Five simultaneous puberties. Merlin, how were they going to do this?

They got off the bus at a stop near Notting Hill Gate subway station, and turned south, into Kensington, where their flat was. Ginny at first had been uncomfortable living in such an upmarket area, but, as Harry pointed out, there were not many wizards in the local area, so they wouldn't be constantly bothered by people lining up to see The-Chosen-One-who-lived-and-died-and-lived-again- and-defeated-he-who-must-not-be-named. Plus, it they could afford it: Harry's inheritance, his wages from his job at the ministry and Ginny's wages from her place on Harpies team had meant they weren't exactly short of money.

Ginny's face turned a violent shade of green when the elevator jerked to a start; hands on her knees, she vomited. Harry pulled back her hair and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, which were shaking. He vanished the mess with a quick "_evanesco" _while Ginny mopped at her mouth with her handkerchief. With a _ping_ the elevator doors opened, revealing an off-white hallway and a few nondescript paintings of places Harry had never seen.

Their home was several doors down with a shiny bronze number and letter box. Unlocking the door, Harry lead Ginny through the living room and the kitchen to the bathroom, where he wet a flannel and cleaned her face and handed her a glass of water. She drank and cleaned her teeth thoroughly, before sitting on the edge of the bath and started to cry. Harry sat himself next to her and hugged her tightly.

"How are we going to do this, Harry?" she choked out. _"How in Merlin's name are we going to do this?"_

"Easy, Gin, easy," he said, rubbing her back. "You need to stay calm, remember? For the baby-" he stopped suddenly. "For the _babies._"

"Babies. There are _babies_," she said hysterically, but tried to calm her breathing all the same. For a few, long moments, they sat together, slowing their breathing (Harry had almost been as hysterical as Ginny).

"Come on," Harry said eventually. "I'll put the kettle on. Are you hungry?" She turned a faint shade of green again, and shook her head. Together, they walked back into the kitchen. Ginny went on into their living room, curling herself into a ball on their loveseat. Harry remained in the kitchen, bustling to and fro with tea bags (divination had put him off leaves for life), sugar and milk. Within five minutes he had joined Ginny on the sofa. She sat up and accepted the cup from him. An easy silence fell between them as they sat and drank their tea, curled up together on their sofa, a blanket spread across their laps.

"What do you think they'll think of... of this all?" Harry asked suddenly. 'They' was a collective term for the entire Weasley family, Hermione and generally Neville and Luna too.

"George will be thrilled. He'll think you'll have no excuse to ever touch me again!" They both laughed. "Though, seriously, I think they will be worried. They were worried about how we would manage one baby; how do you think they'll react to five?"

"Probably take back their babysitting offers." Harry said, visualising Ron surrounded by five screaming babies and having a spectacular panic attack. Perhaps it wasn't such a bad idea that Ron took back his offer.

"Hermione wouldn't. She'd want to prove she could do it, and prove to Ron they could manage parenting. He's a little doubtful."

"Hermione wants kids? Now? I thought she was focusing on her career."

"She's considering children, but Ron doesn't feel confident enough yet. I don't know why: he's fantastic with Teddy, Victoire and Molly."

"He's just a little nervous around really little kids." It was something about how small newborns were; after all that time dropping the Quaffle in their 6th year, Ron was scared of dropping a baby. It was easier with older children – they could hold on.

"He'll have plenty of practice," Ginny said. "I was thinking... Before we knew there were five, I was going to ask you: What do you think about asking Ron and Hermione to be godparents?"

Harry smiled, thinking nostalgically of Sirius and how he had loved having a godfather. "I think there is no better choice. Ron and Hermione would be perfect, but... do you think they would want to be godparents to five?"

"Maybe not... We could ask Neville and Luna," she suggested. "Two for each baby."

"What would you... what would you think about asking Dudley?" Harry had been on steadily better terms with his cousin, becoming almost friends in the past six years. His relationship with his Aunt and, surprisingly, Uncle, had also become better (though he suspected it was his removal from his Uncle's everyday life which made their relationship easier).

"Well..." Ginny hesitated. She had maintained a steady dislike of Vernon and Petunia from the first time she had met them, which darkened into bouts of hatred when Harry mentioned his life before Hogwarts. "I would like to meet him again, just to make sure he's not a... a bad person. His was quite happy to leave you in a cupboard for ten years, Harry! Do we really want to trust one of our children to him?" Harry felt a quiet thrill at the word 'children'. He was going to have children, have a real family!

"He was a different person back then, Gin. He's changed. I'll organise a get-together, if you want. I was thinking of planning one anyway, if I'm honest. Uncle Vernon would be annoyed if we didn't inform his of his grand-nephews in person. If you like Dudley, we could ask him then."

"Yes, that sounds like a good idea. But remember: you can't organise it next weekend. Mum's throwing you a birthday dinner."

Harry grinned. It was just like Mrs Weasley to make a huge deal of his birthday. Well, the weekend after his birthday; the 31st fell on a Thursday, which meant half the family were working that day. He would have a birthday dinner with Hermione and Ron on Thursday, though.

"Should we tell Ron and Hermione on Thursday at dinner?" Harry asked Ginny.

"Yeah. They should know first and besides, Hermione asks so many questions! We won't be able hide anything; due date, genders, paint colours, names... Its going to be the inquisition."

"We don't even know the answers to half of these! I mean..." Harry trailed off, slightly desperately. "Should I bring up S.P.E.W to take her mind off it all?"

"You know, I think I'd rather take the inquisition. Hermione might be regarded as a beacon of hope for magical creatures, but her job is very, very boring." The pair laughed together, then laughed once more as Ginny's stomach rumbled loudly.

"Guess I'm hungry after all," she said.

"Guess they're wondering when they'll get some food!" Harry said, gently prodding Ginny's abdomen and wondering if they could feel it.

"Demanding little snitches, aren't they?" Ginny murmured, moving Harry's hand so it was cupping her stomach and covering it with her own. Harry raised his eyebrow.

"Little snitches?" He asked, gently caressing her abdomen.

"Mum says when a baby starts moving, it feels like a snitch beating its wings inside you." Ginny replied with a smile.

"Snitch. Now that would be a name! What d'ya think, Ginny? Snitch Potter!"

Ginny's eyebrows travelled further and further up her face as her husband dissolved into a fit of laughter. "Snitch Potter! And... and Quaffle Potter! And Bludger and Bat! And... and Firebolt Potter!" Harry's laugher echoed around their cosy living room.

"Snitch, Quaffle, Bludger, Bat and Firebolt," she said, struggling to contain her own amusement. "Which are girls and which are boys?"

"Snitch is a boy; he'd be just like me-"

"Skinny with knobbly knees?" Ginny asked innocently.

"Devastatingly handsome and a fantastic flyer. Quaffle would be a girl and she would be just like you!"

"Watch what you say here," she warned.

"Independent and unafraid to speak her mind," he said. "Bludger and Bat would be trouble makers, just like George and my Dad."

"Are they boys? Girls?"

"Bludger is a girl, Bat is a boy. Bat would be shorter but more outgoing. Bludger would be taller than I am and really thoughtful."

"Who would she inherit that from?" Ginny laughed, eyes slightly glazed as she considered the future Harry was describing. Since they had discovered their bundle of joy was actually five bundles, Ginny had worried over how they would manage raising five children: the finances, the flat which obviously wasn't big enough, the fear she would fail at loving all her children equally. But here Harry was, painting a future were her children all had names and personalities, and Ginny found her longing for the little babies growing in her womb increase.

"Somewhere," Harry said airily, waving his hand in the air. "And last but not least, Firebolt. She would be a mix between the both of us: your red hair, my green eyes, your nose, my lips and our love of flying."

"They sound... amazing," Ginny said, "Absolutely amazing." She met Harry smile for smile, and for a long moment they sat together, curled up in their daydream of their babies. The moment broke when Ginny's stomach released another, insistent rumble. They laughed, and Harry pressed a tender kiss to Ginny's lips.

"I'll cook," he offered.

"You cooked last night, and you paid for lunch today," she replied. "It's my turn! And just because there are five babies instead of one doesn't mean I'm any more fragile than I was this morning."

"Okay, you got me," Harry grinned. Some sort of fierce, protective instinct – stronger than his already strong instinct to protect Ginny – had sprung up the moment he had completely understood what Ginny had meant by 'pregnant'. Since then, he had almost tried to wrap Ginny up in cotton wool in an attempt to prevent any harm whatsoever from happening to her. "I'll go shower instead."

Harry spent a while in the shower, enjoying how the hot water eased the tension from his muscles. As he scrubbed the suds from his hair, his thoughts wandered to the five little babies who would enter the world in seven months. _His children._

Five little babies he would love and cherish and adore. Five little babies who would look a little like him and a little like Ginny. Five little girls and boys with black hair like him and his dad or red hair like Ginny or his mum. Five little babies with his mum's green eyes and Ginny's little nose and his cheek bones and Mrs Weasley's big heart.

What have I done to deserve this? Harry thought. I don't think I've ever been so happy. The wide smile stayed on his face as he showered, as he pulled on his favourite comfy tracksuit bottoms, and as he entered the kitchen to find Ginny dunking fried broccoli into Dijon mustard: her current food craving.


End file.
